CONTAINING SOME PARTICULARS RELATIVETO THE DOUBLE KNOCK, AND OTHERMATTERS: AMONG WHICH CERTAININTERESTING DISCLOSURES RELATIVE TOMr. SNODGRASS AND A YOUNG LADY ARE BYNO MEANS IRRELEVANT TO THIS HISTORYhe object that presented itself to the eyes of theastonished clerk, was a boy―a wonderfully fat boy―habited as a serving lad, standing upright on the mat,with his eyes closed as if in sleep. He had never seen such a fatboy, in or out of a travelling caravan; and this, coupled with thecalmness and repose of his appearance, so very different fromwhat was reasonably to have been expected of the inflicter of suchknocks, smote him with wonder.

　　‘What’s the matter?’ inquired the clerk.

　　The extraordinary boy replied not a word; but he nodded once,and seemed, to the clerk’s imagination, to snore feebly.

　　‘Where do you come from?’ inquired the clerk.

　　The boy made no sign. He breathed heavily, but in all otherrespects was motionless.

　　The clerk repeated the question thrice, and receiving noanswer, prepared to shut the door, when the boy suddenly openedhis eyes, winked several times, sneezed once, and raised his handas if to repeat the knocking. Finding the door open, he staredabout him with astonishment, and at length fixed his eyes on Mr.

　　Lowten’s face.

　　‘What the devil do you knock in that way for?’ inquired theclerk angrily.

　　‘Which way?’ said the boy, in a slow and sleepy voice.

　　‘Why, like forty hackney-coachmen,’ replied the clerk.

　　‘Because master said, I wasn’t to leave off knocking till theyopened the door, for fear I should go to sleep,’ said the boy.

　　‘Well,’ said the clerk, ‘what message have you brought?’

　　‘He’s downstairs,’ rejoined the boy.

　　‘Who?’

　　‘Master. He wants to know whether you’re at home.’

　　Mr. Lowten bethought himself, at this juncture, of looking outof the window. Seeing an open carriage with a hearty oldgentleman in it, looking up very anxiously, he ventured to beckonhim; on which, the old gentleman jumped out directly.

　　‘That’s your master in the carriage, I suppose?’ said Lowten.

　　The boy nodded.

　　All further inquiries were superseded by the appearance of oldWardle, who, running upstairs and just recognising Lowten,passed at once into Mr. Perker’s room.

　　‘Pickwick!’ said the old gentleman. ‘Your hand, my boy! Whyhave I never heard until the day before yesterday of your sufferingyourself to be cooped up in jail? And why did you let him do it,Perker?’

　　‘I couldn’t help it, my dear sir,’ replied Perker, with a smile anda pinch of snuff; ‘you know how obstinate he is?’

　　‘Of course I do; of course I do,’ replied the old gentleman. ‘I amheartily glad to see him, notwithstanding. I will not lose sight ofhim again, in a hurry.’

　　With these words, Wardle shook Mr. Pickwick’s hand oncemore, and, having done the same by Perker, threw himself into anarm-chair, his jolly red face shining again with smiles and health.

　　‘Well!’ said Wardle. ‘Here are pretty goings on―a pinch of yoursnuff, Perker, my boy―never were such times, eh?’

　　‘What do you mean?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘Mean!’ replied Wardle. ‘Why, I think the girls are all runningmad; that’s no news, you’ll say? Perhaps it’s not; but it’s true, forall that.’

　　‘You have not come up to London, of all places in the world, totell us that, my dear sir, have you?’ inquired Perker.

　　‘No, not altogether,’ replied Wardle; ‘though it was the maincause of my coming. How’s Arabella?’

　　‘Very well,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, ‘and will be delighted to seeyou, I am sure.’

　　‘Black-eyed little jilt!’ replied Wardle. ‘I had a great idea ofmarrying her myself, one of these odd days. But I am glad of it too,very glad.’

　　‘How did the intelligence reach you?’ asked Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘Oh, it came to my girls, of course,’ replied Wardle. ‘Arabellawrote, the day before yesterday, to say she had made a stolenmatch without her husband’s father’s consent, and so you hadgone down to get it when his refusing it couldn’t prevent thematch, and all the rest of it. I thought it a very good time to saysomething serious to my girls; so I said what a dreadful thing itwas that children should marry without their parents’ consent,and so forth; but, bless your hearts, I couldn’t make the leastimpression upon them. They thought it such a much moredreadful thing that there should have been a wedding withoutbridesmaids, that I might as well have preached to Joe himself.’

　　Here the old gentleman stopped to laugh; and having done so tohis heart’s content, presently resumed―‘But this is not the best of it, it seems. This is only half the love-making and plotting that have been going forward. We have beenwalking on mines for the last six months, and they’re sprung atlast.’

　　‘What do you mean?’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, turning pale; ‘noother secret marriage, I hope?’

　　‘No, no,’ replied old Wardle; ‘not so bad as that; no.’

　　‘What then?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick; ‘am I interested in it?’

　　‘Shall I answer that question, Perker?’ said Wardle.

　　‘If you don’t commit yourself by doing so, my dear sir.’

　　‘Well then, you are,’ said Wardle.

　　‘How?’ asked Mr. Pickwick anxiously. ‘In what way?’

　　‘Really,’ replied Wardle, ‘you’re such a fiery sort of a youngfellow that I am almost afraid to tell you; but, however, if Perkerwill sit between us to prevent mischief, I’ll venture.’

　　Having closed the room door, and fortified himself with anotherapplication to Perker’s snuff-box, the old gentleman proceededwith his great disclosure in these words―‘The fact is, that my daughter Bella―Bella, who married youngTrundle, you know.’

　　‘Yes, yes, we know,’ said Mr. Pickwick impatiently.

　　‘Don’t alarm me at the very beginning. My daughter Bella―Emily having gone to bed with a headache after she had readArabella’s letter to me―sat herself down by my side the otherevening, and began to talk over this marriage affair. “Well, pa,”

　　she says, “what do you think of it?” “Why, my dear,” I said, “Isuppose it’s all very well; I hope it’s for the best.” I answered inthis way because I was sitting before the fire at the time, drinkingmy grog rather thoughtfully, and I knew my throwing in anundecided word now and then, would induce her to continuetalking. Both my girls are pictures of their dear mother, and as Igrow old I like to sit with only them by me; for their voices andlooks carry me back to the happiest period of my life, and makeme, for the moment, as young as I used to be then, though notquite so light-hearted. “It’s quite a marriage of affection, pa,” saidBella, after a short silence. “Yes, my dear,” said I, “but suchmarriages do not always turn out the happiest.”’

　　‘I question that, mind!’ interposed Mr. Pickwick warmly. ‘Verygood,’ responded Wardle, ‘question anything you like when it’syour turn to speak, but don’t interrupt me.’

　　‘I beg your pardon,’ said Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘Granted,’ replied Wardle. ‘“I am sorry to hear you express youropinion against marriages of affection, pa,” said Bella, colouring alittle. “I was wrong; I ought not to have said so, my dear, either,”

　　said I, patting her cheek as kindly as a rough old fellow like mecould pat it, “for your mother’s was one, and so was yours.” “It’snot that I meant, pa,” said Bella. “The fact is, pa, I wanted to speakto you about Emily.”’

　　Mr. Pickwick started.

　　‘What’s the matter now?’ inquired Wardle, stopping in hisnarrative.

　　‘Nothing,’ replied Mr. Pickwick. ‘Pray go on.’

　　‘I never could spin out a story,’ said Wardle abruptly. ‘It mustcome out, sooner or later, and it’ll save us all a great deal of time ifit comes at once. The long and the short of it is, then, that Bella atlast mustered up courage to tell me that Emily was very unhappy;that she and your young friend Snodgrass had been in constantcorrespondence and communication ever since last Christmas;that she had very dutifully made up her mind to run away withhim, in laudable imitation of her old friend and school-fellow; butthat having some compunctions of conscience on the subject,inasmuch as I had always been rather kindly disposed to both ofthem, they had thought it better in the first instance to pay me thecompliment of asking whether I would have any objection to theirbeing married in the usual matter-of-fact manner. There now, Mr.

　　Pickwick, if you can make it convenient to reduce your eyes totheir usual size again, and to let me hear what you think we oughtto do, I shall feel rather obliged to you!’

　　The testy manner in which the hearty old gentleman utteredthis last sentence was not wholly unwarranted; for Mr. Pickwick’sface had settled down into an expression of blank amazement andperplexity, quite curious to behold.

　　‘Snodgrass!―since last Christmas!’ were the first broken wordsthat issued from the lips of the confounded gentleman.

　　‘Since last Christmas,’ replied Wardle; ‘that’s plain enough, andvery bad spectacles we must have worn, not to have discovered itbefore.’

　　‘I don’t understand it,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ruminating; ‘I cannotreally understand it.’

　　‘It’s easy enough to understand it,’ replied the choleric oldgentleman. ‘If you had been a younger man, you would have beenin the secret long ago; and besides,’ added Wardle, after amoment’s hesitation, ‘the truth is, that, knowing nothing of thismatter, I have rather pressed Emily for four or five months past, toreceive favourably (if she could; I would never attempt to force agirl’s inclinations) the addresses of a young gentleman down inour neighbourhood. I have no doubt that, girl-like, to enhance herown value and increase the ardour of Mr. Snodgrass, she hasrepresented this matter in very glowing colours, and that theyhave both arrived at the conclusion that they are a terribly-persecuted pair of unfortunates, and have no resource butclandestine matrimony, or charcoal. Now the question is, what’s tobe done?’

　　‘What have you done?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘I!’

　　‘I mean what did you do when your married daughter told youthis?’

　　‘Oh, I made a fool of myself of course,’ rejoined Wardle.

　　‘Just so,’ interposed Perker, who had accompanied thisdialogue with sundry twitchings of his watch-chain, vindictiverubbings of his nose, and other symptoms of impatience. ‘That’svery natural; but how?’

　　‘I went into a great passion and frightened my mother into a fit,’

　　said Wardle.

　　‘That was judicious,’ remarked Perker; ‘and what else?’

　　‘I fretted and fumed all next day, and raised a greatdisturbance,’ rejoined the old gentleman. ‘At last I got tired ofrendering myself unpleasant and making everybody miserable; soI hired a carriage at Muggleton, and, putting my own horses in it,came up to town, under pretence of bringing Emily to seeArabella.’

　　‘Miss Wardle is with you, then?’ said Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘To be sure she is,’ replied Wardle. ‘She is at Osborne’s Hotel inthe Adelphi at this moment, unless your enterprising friend hasrun away with her since I came out this morning.’

　　‘You are reconciled then?’ said Perker.

　　‘Not a bit of it,’ answered Wardle; ‘she has been crying andmoping ever since, except last night, between tea and supper,when she made a great parade of writing a letter that I pretendedto take no notice of.’

　　‘You want my advice in this matter, I suppose?’ said Perker,looking from the musing face of Mr. Pickwick to the eagercountenance of Wardle, and taking several consecutive pinches ofhis favourite stimulant.

　　‘I suppose so,’ said Wardle, looking at Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘Certainly,’ replied that gentleman.

　　‘Well then,’ said Perker, rising and pushing his chair back, ‘myadvice is, that you both walk away together, or ride away, or getaway by some means or other, for I’m tired of you, and just talkthis matter over between you. If you have not settled it by the nexttime I see you, I’ll tell you what to do.’

　　‘This is satisfactory,’ said Wardle, hardly knowing whether tosmile or be offended.

　　‘Pooh, pooh, my dear sir,’ returned Perker. ‘I know you both agreat deal better than you know yourselves. You have settled italready, to all intents and purposes.’

　　Thus expressing himself, the little gentleman poked his snuff-box first into the chest of Mr. Pickwick, and then into thewaistcoat of Mr. Wardle, upon which they all three laughed,especially the two last-named gentlemen, who at once shookhands again, without any obvious or particular reason.

　　‘You dine with me to-day,’ said Wardle to Perker, as he showedthem out.

　　‘Can’t promise, my dear sir, can’t promise,’ replied Perker. ‘I’lllook in, in the evening, at all events.’

　　‘I shall expect you at five,’ said Wardle. ‘Now, Joe!’ And Joehaving been at length awakened, the two friends departed in Mr.

　　Wardle’s carriage, which in common humanity had a dickeybehind for the fat boy, who, if there had been a footboard instead,would have rolled off and killed himself in his very first nap.

　　Driving to the George and Vulture, they found that Arabellaand her maid had sent for a hackney-coach immediately on thereceipt of a short note from Emily announcing her arrival in town,and had proceeded straight to the Adelphi. As Wardle hadbusiness to transact in the city, they sent the carriage and the fatboy to his hotel, with the information that he and Mr. Pickwickwould return together to dinner at five o’clock.

　　Charged with this message, the fat boy returned, slumbering aspeaceably in his dickey, over the stones, as if it had been a downbed on watch springs. By some extraordinary miracle he awoke ofhis own accord, when the coach stopped, and giving himself agood shake to stir up his faculties, went upstairs to execute hiscommission.

　　Now, whether the shake had jumbled the fat boy’s facultiestogether, instead of arranging them in proper order, or had rousedsuch a quantity of new ideas within him as to render him obliviousof ordinary forms and ceremonies, or (which is also possible) hadproved unsuccessful in preventing his falling asleep as heascended the stairs, it is an undoubted fact that he walked into thesitting-room without previously knocking at the door; and sobeheld a gentleman with his arms clasping his young mistress’swaist, sitting very lovingly by her side on a sofa, while Arabellaand her pretty handmaid feigned to be absorbed in looking out ofa window at the other end of the room. At the sight of thisphenomenon, the fat boy uttered an interjection, the ladies ascream, and the gentleman an oath, almost simultaneously.

　　‘Wretched creature, what do you want here?’ said thegentleman, who it is needless to say was Mr. Snodgrass.

　　To this the fat boy, considerably terrified, briefly responded,‘Missis.’

　　‘What do you want me for,’ inquired Emily, turning her headaside, ‘you stupid creature?’

　　‘Master and Mr. Pickwick is a-going to dine here at five,’ repliedthe fat boy.

　　‘Leave the room!’ said Mr. Snodgrass, glaring upon thebewildered youth.

　　‘No, no, no,’ added Emily hastily. ‘Bella, dear, advise me.’

　　Upon this, Emily and Mr. Snodgrass, and Arabella and Mary,crowded into a corner, and conversed earnestly in whispers forsome minutes, during which the fat boy dozed.

　　‘Joe,’ said Arabella, at length, looking round with a mostbewitching smile, ‘how do you do, Joe?’

　　‘Joe,’ said Emily, ‘you’re a very good boy; I won’t forget you,Joe.’

　　‘Joe,’ said Mr. Snodgrass, advancing to the astonished youth,and seizing his hand, ‘I didn’t know you before. There’s fiveshillings for you, Joe!”

　　‘I’ll owe you five, Joe,’ said Arabella, ‘for old acquaintance sake,you know;’ and another most captivating smile was bestowed uponthe corpulent intruder.

　　The fat boy’s perception being slow, he looked rather puzzled atfirst to account for this sudden prepossession in his favour, andstared about him in a very alarming manner. At length his broadface began to show symptoms of a grin of proportionately broaddimensions; and then, thrusting half-a-crown into each of hispockets, and a hand and wrist after it, he burst into a horse laugh:

　　being for the first and only time in his existence.

　　‘He understands us, I see,’ said Arabella. ‘He had better havesomething to eat, immediately,’ remarked Emily.

　　The fat boy almost laughed again when he heard thissuggestion. Mary, after a little more whispering, tripped forth fromthe group and said―‘I am going to dine with you to-day, sir, if you have noobjection.’

　　‘This way,’ said the fat boy eagerly. ‘There is such a jolly meat-pie!’

　　With these words, th............